


Waking Up In Not-Vegas

by SixofCrowsBabies



Category: Ghostbusters (2016)
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/F, Gen, Slow Burn, high roller!holtzmann
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-01
Updated: 2018-10-01
Packaged: 2019-07-23 10:51:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,589
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16157522
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SixofCrowsBabies/pseuds/SixofCrowsBabies
Summary: Erin has recently traveled to a fabulous city to associate with the wealthy, possibly to become one of them. When she meets an eccentric high roller, however, she might be in for something very different.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I had this idea recently and somehow it’s like...perfect??? I don’t ship Holtzbert a whole lot, but it’s definitely happening here. Please kudos and comment because I’m waiting for someone to notice me.

As Erin Gilbert walks into the closet, her only thought is, “How?”

Just a few hours ago, Abby came to her hotel room with two glittering gold tickets. She told Erin that they had been invited to a party hosted by a person known only as “Holtzmann.” Erin has no idea who that is, but she was in town to meet people, and this seemed like a good start. 

Now she is picking out her clothes. Abby doesn’t know how formal this event is, but she knows Holtzmann is very, very rich, so it will likely be formal. Erin browses through her rented clothes, wondering what will be appropriate. Long, short, necklines, colors, designers...she doesn’t know how to choose. Eventually she decides on a dark green dress, down to her calves, with a boat neck. She is also wearing black flats and a simple silver bracelet. She leaves her hair and bangs down. 

The party starts at 8:00 PM, so she knows she will be out late tonight. It is the fifth night in a row she will be doing this. The city is grand during the day, but at night, it is thriving. You would be hard pressed to find people who go to bed earlier than 2:00 in the morning.

They leave at 7:45, as Erin likes to be early. Abby is driving her nicer Mercedes. Erin wonders why they are driving, as her hotel is very close to the neighborhood where all of the mansions are. However, Abby drives right past the gates of that neighborhood, towards the coast. A few minutes later, they reach the bridge that connects to their neighboring island. It’s very small, and there are about ten houses and several houseboats on it. You have to be crazy, crazy rich to be on that island. 

“I should have worn something nicer,” Erin mutters. 

They spend several minutes driving through the island’s roads. There are a few other cars headed in the same direction as them. All extremely expensive. 

When they pull up in front of this place, Erin is nothing short of shellshocked. It’s the only house for nearly a mile, and it’s absolutely huge. The gates are open, and several cars are pulling into the circle driveway. The house itself must be at least four stories, made of gray stone with a dark roof. It’s surrounded by a ten foot high stone fence, ivy growing beautifully on it. 

To Erin’s surprise, there is techno party music playing loudly. Inside, she can see several colorful strobe lights. There are a few cups and pieces of food scattered on the yard and driveway. Many people are wearing regular attire, or at least more casual than ball gowns and three piece suits. Now Erin feels overdressed, the last thing she expected. 

They park and head inside. 

“You didn’t bring a swimsuit, did you,” Abby asks. 

Erin shakes her head, puzzled. 

“That’s a shame,” replies Abby. 

Before Erin can ask why, Abby grabs a cup and goes inside the house. Now Erin is on her own, and she is definitely nervous. She takes a deep breath, then shakes out her arms and legs for a second before heading inside. 

It is just like she imagines high school parties to look like, not that she had ever been to any. Music playing, lights dimmed or flashing different colors, people standing around and talking or sitting on chairs and couches, already somewhat wasted. Erin slowly walks through the rooms, wishing she had just worn a t shirt and skirt, but this dress. And she could at least use some high heels to get a bit of ground, unlike right now, where she is being crushed between people’s torsos and elbows. Despite the people currently destroying it, Holtzmann’s house is amazing. It’s filled with expensive furniture and art and floors and walls and it’s just so lavish. Erin would love to take a tour, like a museum. But for now she will have to deal with wandering throughout the halls. She heads to the second floor, which is less crowded than the first one. When she approaches the windows facing the backyard, she sees why she should have brought a bathing suit. 

There is a huge backyard, no surprise there; but its main feature point is the pool. There is a huge pool, surrounded by a huge stone area. There is a small island in the center, housing a bar and some towels. There are several chairs and towels outside of the pool. A volleyball net floats in one section. What draws Erin’s eye more is that there is an enormous water slide that goes from the third floor into the pool, twisting and turning as it goes. Several people are using that now. 

God, Holtzmann has an amazing house. They would, obviously, but it still amazes Erin. She likes her new house, but she is absolutely floored by this one. 

Erin wonders if she will even meet Holtzmann. She doesn’t know what they look like, what they do. For all she knows Holtmann could be dressed in casual clothes and blending in with the guests. 

Erin briefly looks over this floor, then goes up to the third. Most of the doors are closed, but there is one cracked open. Usually Erin is not very nosy, but this time she can’t help herself. She crosses the large room and cautiously pushes open the door. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don’t know how long this story will be, but it’s gonna be a somewhat slow burn, so hopefully that gives you an idea. Hope you enjoy!

The door opens, and Erin steps in. It’s an office, decorated in nice mahogany and gold. The shelves are filled with strange objects that Erin is a little taken aback by. 

But she barely focuses on these. Her attention is immediately drawn to the desk, where a woman is sitting, feet on the desk, laptop balanced on her knees. 

Erin jumps a foot. “I-I’m so sorry,” she stutters. “I didn’t realize there was somebody in here, although I really shouldn’t have been snooping in here in the first place…”

The woman sets her laptop down and stands up, walking towards Erin. She has blonde hair in a small bun, a few stray curls sticking out on top. She is wearing a gray waistcoat, patterned shirt, tie wrapped loosely around her neck, with rolled up gray pants and bowler shoes. 

She’s very attractive. 

She gets about a foot away from Erin, then sticks out her hand.

“Jillian Holtzmann, pleasure to meet you,” she says quickly. 

Erin hesitates for a second, looking at the outstretched hand, then up at the woman, who is staring at her with a faint smile. 

Realizing that she has done nothing for too long, Erin shakes the other woman’s hand and says, “Erin Gilbert.”

They release hands, and Erin looks at the office more. 

“I presume you are the Holtzmann running this party,” she asks. 

Holtzmann nods, not meeting Erin’s eyes. 

“Yep, I’m the master of this humble household,” she replies. 

Erin attempts to look at Holtzmann’s left hand, but it is currently tucked into her pocket. Erin realizes that her gaze may be mistaken for something else, so she averts her eyes, a blush coming over her cheeks. 

“Do you...have a husband,” she questions. “Kids?”

“No for both of those,” the other woman answers. “Not very fond of the kinderen, and a husband…” She trails off, ending the sentence with a shrug. 

Erin nods. They are on opposite sides of the room, neither one meeting each other’s eyes, but somehow it feels...natural. Comfortable. Like she’d like to do this more.

“Your house is amazing,” gushes Erin. “It’s clearly so old, yet it looks pristine. I would love to just look around for a while.” She takes a breath, then continues. “Oh, I would love to be in your shoes.”

Holtzmann smirks, then asks, “You want em? I’m a size eight, but they’re a little big…”

“Oh, no, it was a figure of speech,” Erin says. When she looks at Holtzmann, the woman is smiling, showing that she knew. 

They sit in silence for another few seconds, then Erin says, “Well, uh, I should be going, I guess, I don’t want to stop you from your work or anything.” She nods awkwardly, then turns. 

“Wait,” exclaims Holtzmann. 

When Erin turns, the woman looks back at the ground and says, “I-I don’t want you to go.” 

Erin is surprised. Partly because this woman wants her to stay, but also because this is the woman that owns this property. She’d heard that Holtzmann is a high roller, got rich from selling properties and the stock trade and all the usual. But all the millionaires around here are old men, trust fund babies, attractive men who get money purely because of their looks and charm. Erin doesn’t actually know if this woman is a trust fund baby or descended from one of these other types, but judging by her behavior and dress, she is likely her own money maker. But the question is how. 

“You know, I don’t really participate in a lot of parties,” states Holtzmann. “I’m not really made for that stuff. Common Gatsby case. Anyways, what I’m saying is that I wouldn’t mind getting out of here.”

She stops speaking, and Erin doesn’t respond. She can’t seem to focus around this woman. 

“Wanna go to your place,” Holtzmann suddenly asks.

“Oh,” Erin responds. “Oh, um, I don’t really...have a place here. It’s a hotel. Very temporary.” 

Holtzmann smiles and replies, “I like hotels.” 


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some exposition and stuff.

Holtzmann and Erin exit the room and go down the stairs. Several people wave to Holtzmann, and she says hello. One person approaches her, presumably to talk, but they are breezed by. 

The women get to the front door, and Erin realizes that she does not have a car. 

“Um, Holtzmann, I don’t have a car here,” she states. 

Holtzmann looks back at her, then just says, “Okay,” And reaches her hand into a basket. She grabs some car keys, then looks at Erin. 

They head out of the door and towards the driveway. Erin looks around at the cars parked, wondering which one is Holtzmann’s. She assumes it is the nice one that is parked farther from the others, but they pass right by that one. Holtzmann leads Erin to the side of the house, where another section of driveway is. 

The blonde woman stops in front of a car. Erin was expecting a Lamborghini or Tesla, not...a hearse. 

“Isn’t she cool,” Holtzmann says excitedly. “I got her from this guy who owns a funeral company,”

Erin awkwardly nods, staring at the car. It’s definitely a statement. Yet somehow it suits its owner. 

They get in, then Holtzmann asks, “Where to?”

“The Riverside Baron,” replies Erin.

As they drive away from the house, Erin asks, “Are you sure you’re okay with leaving your house like this?”

The other woman nods and says, “Eh, these people aren’t going to steal anything.” 

Even though it is not very late, it’s dark outside, and all of the lights on the casinos and tourist attractions are flashing bright. Erin wonders what it would be like to live here, to be able to drive by this every night. Do the citizens actually participate in this, or is it for the visitors, for the people like her? 

They arrive at the hotel and go to Erin’s room. Erin forgot how much of a mess it is, and she hurries to clean it up. Holtzmann stands in the corner, watching Erin. 

“Sorry about the mess,” says Erin. “You know, I was invited to your party just a few hours ago. I thought I would be staying alone tonight, maybe going down to the strip.” 

It is silent for a second, then Holtzmann sits down on the bed. She sits cross legged and looks expectantly at Erin. The redhead sits next to her, keeping her legs off the bed. 

“Despite the fact that we are currently in an enclosed space together, I don’t know very much about you,” Holtzmann says. 

Erin knows it’s true, but she doesn’t quite know if she wants to talk about herself just yet. Not knowing what to do, she stands up and begins pouring glasses of wine. She hands one to her guest and takes a sip from hers. 

After she swallows, she says, “You first.”

Holtzmann raises an eyebrow. Erin suddenly does not know why she said that. Where she got this boldness from. 

“Well, since you asked so nicely,” Holtzmann responds. “When I was growing up, I wanted to be a nuclear engineer. I’m definitely smart enough for it. But when I was getting my PhD, I became very, very aware that science is not exactly friendly to people of my type. So I figured, why should I give these people my intelligence if I’m not going to be appreciated for it. So I dropped out of that.” She pauses and takes a drink. “Bought some stocks, did all that real estate stuff, and now I’m here.”

Erin has been drinking the wine the entire time she was speaking. She knows that now she has to tell her life story. 

“I used to be a college professor,” she starts. “After I got fired for reasons I’d rather not admit, some people hired me to be a private tutor. So, I moved up there and bought a nice chalet with the nice paycheck they’re giving me. Then, my friend Abby, you probably know her, wanted me to do more than being a lame teacher. I agreed with her, and I decided that I would try to do some of what you’re doing. So I’ve been here the past few days, socializing, knowing the town.” 

Holtzmann nods, then asks, “You’re not trying to swindle people or anything, are you?”

Erin is a little taken aback. “No,” she exclaims. “No! Nothing like that!” She’s extremely worried that Holtzmann won’t believe her, that she’ll leave and tell all the other millionaires that Erin Gilbert is coming for your fortune, and then Erin will be ruined, and…

But the other woman just smiles and says, “Yeah, I knew that. Just making sure.”

Erin breathes a big sigh of relief, then sets down her now-empty glass. Right as Holtzmann is about to say something, Erin’s phone rings. It is a call from Abby. 

“Hello,” Erin says as she answers the phone. 

“Where are you,” Abby asks immediately. “The party’s getting pretty wild. Someone brought out the bubble machine! Come outside, I’m at that chair with the hole in it.”

“Abby, I can’t,” Erin replies. “I left.”

“Why,” Abby asks. “Isn’t your plan to get as familiar with these people as much as you can?”

“Okay, stop saying plan, you’re making it seem like I’m going to rob a bank or something,” says Erin. “And, uh, yeah I guess so, but tonight I just wasn’t feeling this party. Sorry.” 

She hangs up, then takes another breath. She doesn’t know why she is so worried. Technically, she didn’t lie, even if she didn’t tell the full truth. 

“The party’s getting pretty wild,” Erin tells Holtzmann. 

The blonde replies, “Well, maybe I shouldn’t leave it alone after all.”

“I think that would be smart,” Erin agrees. 

Holtzmann sets down her glass, gets close to Erin, then says, “It’s been fun, Erin. See ya around.”

She gives a two fingered salute, then turns and leaves the room. Erin looks at the bed and notices a small piece of paper on it. 

It reads, “Come to my house tomorrow at noon.”

 


End file.
